


Rose Petals of Sin

by FindingMyPerhaps



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Consensual Underage Sex, First Time, Incest, Masturbation, Multi, Sam Has A Twin Sister, Sibling Incest, Threesome - F/M/M, Underage Kissing, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-18
Updated: 2015-06-09
Packaged: 2018-03-23 12:18:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3767905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FindingMyPerhaps/pseuds/FindingMyPerhaps
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>May 2nd, 1983<br/>Lawrence, Kansas<br/>Samuel Winchester is born.  So is his twin sister. <br/>Things are never the same.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Things We Do Not Wish For (We Count Them As Blessings)

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by my creation of Sam's twin sister, Mary Winchester II, as my original character. So many people wanted a fanfic for them. I'm here to please.

Dean Winchester had seen a lot of beautiful things in his lifetime.  Lot of beautiful girls, beautiful sunsets, beautiful cars, and beautiful pies.  But if he had to choose a favorite of all the beautiful things he'd ever seen, he'd probably have to think back to the day of May 2nd, 1983, in Lawrence, Kansas  the day his little brother and little sister were born.

The first of the twins was Sam, named Samuel Winchester after their maternal grandfather.  Dean found that ironic in later years, considering that he had actually been named after their maternal grandmother.  Funny, how the universe has a way of predicting things.

After thirty minutes of labor, Mary Winchester gave birth to a healthy baby girl.  John Winchester had the liberty of naming her after the most beautiful woman he'd ever known.  Mary Winchester, Jr. Or, as the young girl would one day prefer, Mary Winchester II.  She never believed that strong titles belonged to men by themselves, anyway. 

Yeah, the moment Dean had looked at the two newborns, he'd been in love.  Grey-blue eyes that would one day become hazel looked up at him curiously, and all Dean wanted to do was hold them both and promise them the world.  In those days, he probably could have given it to them. 

The last person to see Mary Winchester alive had been her husband, John.  Right before the flames burst around her body as she was pinned to the ceiling.  The story was told too often after the three young Winchester children had grown up, usually retold in dreams or nightmares.  Sometimes it was thrown in their faces by their father when any of them did something wrong or when they disobeyed his orders.  Sam would comment at times that he sounded like a broken record, but only when John was too far away to hear the words.  They didn't need another retelling for talking back. 

Sam never liked the life they lived, once he understood that it wasn't normal.  Normal people didn't hunt after supernatural things.  No, normal people didn't have to worry about having a gun loaded with rock salt nearby, and they sure as hell didn't worry about putting salt anywhere but in their food.  Everyone around them lived normal lives and worried about normal things.  Mary was at least thankful to be aware of the darkness than to be oblivious to it.  

Dean always loved how Mary saw things. Like she was the most optimistic person, down to earth but aware of its dangers, ready to adapt to them. Who couldn't admire that?  It was a wonder how Sam and Mary actually managed to stay so close, considering their different views and beliefs. Dean sometimes questioned if they had that weird psychic connection you see in weird movies and tv shows. He wouldn't be surprised. 

Training was important, they all realized.  All three of the Winchester siblings had to become skilled in fighting and sparring, and they spent hours learning about each weapon until they could hold them.  Dean had these lessons early, but it didn't stop Mary from becoming the best damn shot out there.  She could shoot with her eyes closed, and she would hit every single target placed for her.  

"Where the hell did you learn how to do that?" Dean finally asked one day, more impressed than he was upset that his little sister had a better shot than he did.  

All Mary did was smile at him.  "I learned from the best." Dean didn't remember teaching her _that_.

Mary could be good at everything and anything all she wanted, but John never let her go out on an actual hunt. " _Sexist_ ," she would accuse under her breath before putting her blond hair up, tying it back and out of her face.  She did that every time she was frustrated or upset, and it was rare that she did it for much of anything else.  It was almost equal to rolling up the sleeves of a shirt before getting to work.  Except Mary didn't have work; she wasn't _allowed_ work.  Nothing pissed her off more. 

"Don't get your panties in a bunch," Dean would tease her in return, but she never had the patience to answer him.  It was sad, Dean decided, that Mary was cursed with being the baby girl and was made to stay at home. 

Medical stuff. That's what Mary did in her free time, studying up on the medical things since she was the closest thing to a nurse the boys would ever have.  She figured that she needed to make herself useful somehow, so she read every book she could get her hands on that had to do with first aid and beyond. Besides, she was free and didn't ask for any identification. Hospitals were stupid, anyway. 

 

Perhaps the only thing worse to Mary than being left behind when John and Dean went on a hunt was when Sam went along with them, leaving her by herself.  Sixteen and she couldn't be trusted to hunt, but she could be trusted to protect herself from anything that might be hunting her. Whatever.

No, it wasn't the best feeling in the world, watching her two older brothers leave with her father to go on a hunt.  Not that she couldn't take care of herself, of course, considering that was finally sixteen and could be trusted with these things.  Really, sixteen seemed to be some sort of magic number; it allowed her to have the privilege of being left at home by herself while it allowed Sam to be taken on his first real hunt.  Not one of those little ones that he'd once accompanied on.  A _real_ hunt. _Real_ danger.

It hadn't gone well.  Mary had tried not to panic when the impala rolled up earlier than expected.  Two days early, to be exact.  "We should be home about Thursday," John had explained previously before they'd even left.  "I'll call if it'll be later." Well _fuck._  There had been no phone call and it was _Tuesday_.  Something was wrong.

Looking out the window, she could see that John and Dean were beat up.  John had a limp, Dean had a gash on the side of his head that poured blood from his hairline.  Clothes torn in some places, dirt and blood on the both of them.  But where was Sam?

The both of them went around the Impala to open one of the back seat doors.  Dean reached in first for something, and John reached to help.  It was a moment before Mary realized what they were pulling out was actually Sam.  

Mary was out the door before she even heard her father call her name, not even stopping to put shoes on before she went outside.  She was suddenly all business, looking him over in dim light that the fading sunlight offered.  "Get him in our room," she spoke to deaf ears, but it was almost routine.  

She wasn't allowed to worry about John or Dean, and she didn't have the time to worry, either.  All she knew was that her twin was hurt, her Sam was hurt.  Mary locked the two of them in their room before she went to work.  

Time passed quicker than she realized.  Flashes of stitches and needles, creams and balms, bandages and wrappings.  It was all routine things she'd learned from text books and done so many times to their father and Dean. It was skill mixed with muscle memory.  

In the end, she made sure Sam was okay before putting him in his bed.  Finally, she came to the conclusion that she couldn't leave Sam.  Not right now.  Not when she had been fearful of losing him.  So instead of leaving the room or crawling into her own bed, she moved in alongside her twin, making sure he was comfortable and okay with her position.

Eventually they ended up looking at each other, Mary on her left side while Sam was well enough to lay on his right.  Mary looked him over once, twice, three times to make sure that he was perfectly fine before she gained the courage to speak up.  

"I could have lost you tonight," she said in a small voice, stating the obvious that needed to be stated.  Her voice was gentle and familiar to his ears, soothing to hear after going so long without hearing it.

All Sam could do was nod quietly in response to her words, deciding to move closer to her as he hated the space.  It was as close as they could be considering his injuries, but Mary was almost certain that Sam couldn't care less about those. 

"Yeah," Sam murmured. "I know." It was a scary thought that they were both trying not to focus on too hard, but it was definitely the elephant in the room. 

Mary still found herself struggling with that thought, though, and she tried to make sense of why she couldn't let it go.  The fact that someone or something had hurt her twin, could have taken him away from her.  If she ever found out what it was, she'd have it dead if they hadn't already killed it.  

She tried to distract herself.  "Dad's not disappointed." Really, she didn't know why she said that, but it was the first thing that came to her mind.  "Neither is Dean, but I think they won't be taking you on any hunts any time soon."   _And if they do, they'll have to deal with me._  Mary could go her whole life without having to see Sam like that again.  

Their eyes met for a moment and stayed there, hazel meeting hazel.  She tried to forget about the evidence of the hunt that remained untouched, with the cut on his lip and the bruise on his cheek.  "I'm sorry," was all she could say.

"Don't apologize.  It's not your fault." And yeah, she knew it wasn't, but she still regretted not throwing more of a fit when he'd been offered the chance to go.  Not that she could blame him, really; if she had been asked to go on a hunt, she would have been up on her feet and out the door before she could remember put shoes on.  "I think maybe I should apologize. For scaring you."

Really, Mary tried not to cry, but then there were tears in her eyes because she couldn't tell him no, he had no room to apologize, he had no reason.

Unfortunately, Sam saw the tears before she could will them away, and he reached up, gently brushing his fingertips under her eyes to catch them. "Hey, I'm okay," he said firmly.  "And you got me all patched up, right? I'm _fine_."  But she knew he wasn't, really.  Still, he offered her a reassuring smile.  "I'm okay." Mary hated that his smile was contagious.

Just looking at her twin, Mary could see the look of fondness and trust in Sam's eyes and on his features, and just that managed to calm her significantly.  

"I love you," she admitted gently, and it was one of the few times she got the chance to say it, but it was the right time.  "So much, Sammy." Subconsciously, Mary leaned her head into Sam's touch as he gently cupped her cheek, a small gesture that meant everything.  It was intimate, almost as unfamiliar as it was familiar.  It reminded Sam of a cat seeking the affection and attention. 

"Yeah." Mary didn't need to say it out loud.  Sam knew it the same way he knew that the sky was blue, needed it like he needed air to breathe.  He brushed his thumb over her cheekbone, slow and tender, bringing he a little closer to rest their foreheads together.  "I love you, too."  

This wasn't strange to them.  It was something special between the two of them.  Their father and Dean were both a little emotionally stunted and tended to avoid this sort of display when they could, but Sam and Mary had never been shy about being this way with one another. They loved it, honestly.  They lived for this affection and intimacy. But in this moment, it was different, with the way his mind went somewhere else.  He hesitated.

"What would you do if I were to kiss you right now?"

Sam's voice was soft and quiet, like an innocent child asking for a piece of candy.  Admittedly, the question didn't surprise her as much as it probably should have, but this was them. They didn't work like normal people; they weren't normal twins. 

"I dunno." _Lie_ , she thought, because she did know. 

Mary was the one to do it, not hesitating or questioning herself before she took the liberty of closing the space between their lips, their eyes falling closed as they met in the middle, gentle and sweet.  Sam's lips tasted like blood from the cut, while Mary's tasted like honey. It worked, somehow, and they seemed to fit together just perfectly.  As though they were meant to be like this, lips and bodies gently pressed together. 

Everything stopped for them. It was a mutual first kiss, because in the end, it would always have come to this.  Just the two of them, just the same. Even when it ended with Sam pulling away, the world still stood still for them. 

"Um... Was that okay?"

"Yeah," Mary answered, her cheeks a light shade of pink.  She was tempted to kiss him again, but she thought that this would be good enough for the night.  After all, Sam needed his rest.  "Think I like kissing." It was followed by a small laugh.  It was nice, really, and she suddenly understood what the girls at school always talked about. 

"Me too." Sam smiled and pulled her close, moving until he was on his back.  Carefully, Mary rested her head on Sam's chest, listening to his heart beat.  This was how they worked.  No words, just gestures and movements.  

Mary closed her eyes and listened to the gentle sound of Sam breathing along with the beat of his heart.  "Night, Sammy," she spoke softly.  
  


Sam's arm wrapped around her, holding her close.  "Night, Mary," he murmured, and his eyes slipped closed, too. For a moment, it was paradise, where Mary found peace in Sam's arms and within the beat of his heart.  Sam found happiness with her there, still could taste her on his lips.   _Honey_.

It wasn't until they both fell asleep that the world finally resumed to its normal speed. 

 


	2. (Im)Perfections of the Perfect

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgive me for the delay between the first chapter and this one. I've been through exams, a vacation, and exhaustion. 
> 
> This chapter is written and dedicated to my adoring girlfriend. Without whom, I would not have been motivated to write this story out.   
> Happy birthday, love. <3

Sixteen _was_ the magic number, Mary decided.  Because even if sixteen didn't allow her to go on hunts, she still had Sam.  Always.  Now more than ever.

One kiss was all it had taken before it became normal between them.  It was a close intimacy that no one was allowed to see but themselves, hushed kisses shared in privacy where they were sure no one could see them.  Little blessings. 

They kissed in their room before bed, sometimes curled up together in Sam's bed for the night.  Mary would grab Sam's hand at school during lunch to take him behind the school, just to kiss him while he held her close.

Sometimes they had to ask themselves in private what people would think.  But people didn't matter.

"Dean matters," Mary whispered in the darkness of their room one late night.  She was facing Sam in the small bed, curled up close to him as usual.  "I don't want to think about what he'll do when he finds out."

And Sam, bless his heart, didn't let Mary feel so down about it.  "He won't find out," he promised her, bringing her hand up to kiss the back of it.  "And even if he does, it'll be okay.  He's always accepted us."

"Yeah, but _this_?" Her hand moved from Sam's grip to gesture between the two of them.  "Even you have to admit that Dean would be a bit freaked out."  Frustrated, Mary turned to lay on her back, staring at the darkness above.  "If he tells Dad, Sammy..."

"That won't happen," Sam tried to insist, and Mary could hear the small smile on his lips as he said it.  He moved closer to her and moved her hair so that he could kiss at her neck, his lips gentle against her skin.  "We're gonna be okay."

Mary sighed and turned her head to look at Sam's face, her eyes adjusting just to see him.  "Promise?" And she felt childish for asking.

"Yeah." Carefully, he pressed a kiss to her soft lips.  "Promise."

And Mary would be damned if she said she didn't believe him.

 

Sixteen felt great.

Seventeen felt even _better_.

Well.  Most of the time, anyway.  Because a few things happened that year.

 

" _Sammy_ ," Mary gasped her twin's name when he bit at the sensitive part of her neck, the two of them tangled in the sheets of Sam's bed.  Sam's shirt thrown over there, Mary's tank top somewhere else, and Sam's fingers working at the button of Mary's denim shorts when his own pants were finally out of the way. 

It was late July, Dad was on a hunt, Dean was out working at a local bar, and it wasn't fucking  _fair_ that there were so many layers of clothing between them.

Opportunities like this one didn't come often, so they indulged themselves.

"Want you," Sam had said during the brief seconds that they pulled apart, pulling her shorts down her smooth, tan legs before tossing them elsewhere. 

Sam moved over her again and trailed his lips from her neck and downwards, open mouthed kisses that drove Mary crazy as she tilted her head back and moaned. 

"Mary?" Dean's voice rang clear through the room, interrupting the twins as they both gasped and moved away from each other.

Mary's first instinct was to grab the sheets and pull them to cover up herself.  Looking at Dean standing in the doorway made her chest tight, and she thought her brother was going to yell at them or get angry in some way.

Dean looked fine. Surprised, but fine.

"Um, I just wanted to tell you guys that, uh..." Dean paused and looked them over for a moment before gesturing with his thumb to point behind him.  "Got dinner downstairs, if you're hungry."  

They just sort of stared for a moment.  Mary couldn't speak, still expecting something - _anything_ \- to express disapproval or anger from their brother.

"Dinner, yeah," Sam spoke almost breathlessly when Mary could barely breathe, just nodding at Dean.  "We'll be down in a minute."

Dean just nodded in return.  He glanced over them one more time before he turned, closing the bedroom door behind me. 

Mary remembered to breathe.  "What the _fuck_ just happened?"

 

Dean was okay with it.  Like, really okay with it.  

More than okay with it.

The first time they discussed what happened was actually a few weeks after the initial incident.  They had gone for a ride in the impala before pulling in to eat at a diner.  "My treat," he'd said with his proud smile, and Mary wasn't sure if it could be more genuine.

In the diner, Sam almost reached for Mary's hand under the table, but she visibly jerked away from him.  

Dean looked up from his burger when he saw it.

"Sorry," Mary almost whispered, and she wasn't sure if it was directed more towards Sam or to Dean.  What could she say?

Dean sighed, something final about it, and Mary held her breath when she waited for him to actually say something.

"It's okay," Dean said first, which was a real surprise to the twins.  "No one knows you around here.  It's alright."

"Don't act like you're actually okay with this," Mary stated boldly, looking at Dean.  "Like you don't mind."

And Dean. Dean actually shrugged. "I don't."

Neither Sam nor Mary answered.

"I think I knew before you two did," Dean said honestly.  "It's not really that big of a deal.  Considering."

"Considering what, Dean?" Sam snapped.

"Well you two were always really close.  Fought Dad when he told you two to stop sharing a room when you were about seven.  It was gonna happen at some point."

Mary bit her bottom lip.  "Was it that obvious?"

"Kinda, yeah," Dean said with a nod.  "And no, I'm not telling Dad.  So you can relax."  

It took weeks for Mary to believe him.

 

"Is your brother taking anyone to prom?" Mary's so call friend asked her.  Mary grabbed her pre-cal book from her locker and resisted the urge to slam it closed.  

"You've asked me that about three times today," Mary said without looking at her.

Amber leaned against the lockers, her eyes locked on Sam down the hall where he was talking to his friends.  Mary had the urge to pull on Amber's curly hair.  

"Not like he has a girlfriend or anything," Amber insisted, her eyes obviously looking Sam up and down.  She looked at Mary with a scared look.  "He's single, right?  Doesn't have a girlfriend from your old school, does he?"

Mary opened her mouth to say no, but she caught herself.  "Actually, yeah," she said as a matter of fact.  "Yeah, he has a girlfriend.  Kinda serious, too.  And trust me, he's a really loyal kinda guy."  She leaned in and whispered, "She's kinda jealous type, anyway."  

Again, Amber looked over at Sam and sighed dreamily.  "It's a shame.  I'd climb that like a tree any day."

Mary slammed the locker closed.

 

"Prom is not that big of a deal," Mary insisted from inside the dressing room Dean had practically locked her in.  Looking in the mirror, she looked at the dress Dean had thrown over the top of the door.  The sixth dress so far.

"Senior prom is a big deal."  Another dress hung over the top of the door.

Mary thought for a second and scowled, as if Dean could see her.  "You didn't have a senior prom!"

"Yeah, and that's why I'm making sure that you and Sam do."  Another dress.  "Try that one on, first. I like the pink."

Mary sighed and unzipped her dress before grabbing the one dress from the door.  "Dean, this is a peach color."

"Try it on anyway."

Behind the closed door, Mary smiled to herself.

 

It was cute until prom actually came around.  Dean insisted that Sam and Mary don't see each other dressed until they get to prom.  "Like a wedding," Mary sighed to herself as she put another pin in her hair.  

A knock came on the bedroom door, and Dean opened it to look inside.  When he saw her, he smiled.

"I look ridiculous," Mary said as she stood up straight from looking in the mirror.  It was the peach dress, which was more pink than peach in the right lighting.  "I look like Carrie before the pig's blood."

Dean entered and closed the door behind him.  "You look beautiful."

Mary looked in the full body mirror across from her.  "I don't like my hair up like this," she admitted sadly, poking at one of the pins.  

"Then wear it down," Dean said with a shrug.

It wasn't until Mary struggled to get the pins out of her hair that Dean moved forward to help her.  "Here," he said, "face me."  

Frustrated, Mary turned and let Dean take out each pin for her.  Effortlessly getting each one out without pulling her hair at all, and then he continued to move her hair so that her curls weren't hidden.

She smiled.  "Where did you learn to do that?"

"Who do you think used to braid your hair for school when you were little?" Dean asked while he made sure that her hair was even.  

Mary continued to smile fondly.  "Sam left yet?"

"Nah, his friends are coming to pick them up," he said just after he finished with Mary's hair, setting the pins down on her dresser.  

Suddenly, someone honked from outside.  Mary went to the window to look outside.  Sam's friends had shown up in a limousine. 

Dean interrupted her before she could see Sam leave the house.  "No looking," he reminded her before looking her over. 

"So you're not wearing any makeup, right?" 

Mary shook her head.  

"All natural?"

"Yup."

"Perfect." 

And her smile almost fell.  

"What's wrong?" Dean asked as Mary looked away from him.

"Nothing," Mary murmured.  "Just kinda wish mom was here."

Dean offered a sad smile - the one he always gave in times like this.  "Yeah," he said gently.  "Me, too."


End file.
